


Custard and Care

by PippaZen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 12:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19376755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PippaZen/pseuds/PippaZen
Summary: Molly Weasley is reasonably sure she has never had a conversation with Severus Snape. So what in blazes are they supposed to talk about when he shows up early for a meeting? Silly one-shot, just because.





	Custard and Care

“Why do you even want to live in this house, you blasted thing? We’ve already gotten rid of all the others.”

Clearly offended, the doxy paused in its escape to turn and stick its tongue out at her, its squeaks implying that if it could speak to her, she would be equally offended. Taking her opportunity, she hit it squarely in the face with doxycide, pinching its paralyzed body between her gloved thumb and forefinger to drop it into her bucket. 

Molly Weasley heaved a sigh and sat down in the desk chair. When she’d heard the damn thing flying around the office, she’d been worried that a whole nest had sprung up again. Fortunately she’d only discovered this single, rogue doxy left behind from the raid over the summer. Where it had been hiding in the meantime, she had no idea. Perhaps Sirius was spending too much of his alone time with firewhiskey and had failed to notice the creature. She thought she’d smelled it on him when she arrived earlier.

_I should have just waited until the meeting was about to start before I came over._ Being alone with Sirius often led to arguments. Hell, being in mixed company with Sirius often led to arguments. Still, she felt at least some empathy for his solitude now that the children had returned to school. He’d only exchanged one prison for another. Perhaps that was why he’d immediately accepted her offer to come over early and make dinner before the meeting. Even her company was better than none at all.

Keeping one eye on the bucket in case the doxy started to come around again, she carried it downstairs on her way back to the kitchen. The soup was likely ready by now, and it wouldn’t be much longer for the bread. She was still considering dessert when she heard the raised voices drifting from the front hall.

“Got here early just to gloat, did you?”

“Yes, Black, I rearranged my busy schedule to include more of you in it.”

Molly snapped her wand at the curtain hiding Walburga Black’s portrait, sending a squealing little ball of blue light flying behind it. Immediately, the foul woman’s shrieks filled the house. She rounded the corner just in time to see both Sirius and Snape jump at the sudden cacophony, a scene which would have looked comical if not for the tension. Sirius’ eyes could have cut glass with a look as he whirled towards his mother’s portrait to deal with it. Snape’s glance flicked to Molly only briefly before he strode to the dining room. She suspected that he charmed his robes to billow like that when he walked, if only for dramatic effect. 

Interrupting the steady flow of Sirius’ curses as he managed to secure Walburga behind her curtain again, Molly shoved the bucket with the single doxy at him. “Can you go deal with this while I continue making dinner?”

He seemed to think better of hexing her on the spot. His jaw was still tight as he replied, “I can. And I’ll take my bloody time with it, too.”

_Thank Merlin for small miracles,_ she thought in relief as he stalked off to the back of the house. If those two got into it, they’d be lucky if there was enough house left to have a meeting in.

She slowed before entering the dining room. Snape wasn’t usually early, and she had never spoken more than a few words with him. She mostly knew him by reputation from her children. Granted, she didn’t expect that to change now, considering how quickly he’d dismissed her presence in the entryway. He would probably ignore her while she cooked.

Bracing herself, she stepped into the dining room, although she needn’t have bothered; he wasn’t facing her and didn’t seem to notice her come in. He stood near the fireplace, slightly angled away from her, staring down into the flames. The flickering light caught the lines in his face such that she understood one thing immediately: this man was exhausted. He looked tired right down to his soul.

“Dinner’s not quite ready yet, but would you like some tea?” Something about his haggard expression compelled her to offer him at least something.

His head snapped in her direction with a jolt; she was quite right, he hadn’t heard her step into the room. His expression smoothed into something she couldn’t read as he considered her. “Yes, thank you,” he replied after a brief pause.

She nodded and shuffled into the kitchen, setting the kettle to an immediate boil before checking on the soup. By the time she’d finished seasoning the soup to her liking, set it aside in a stasis charm to wait for dinner, and checked on the bread, tea was ready. Snape was still alone in the dining room when she returned with tea, milk, and sugar. Sirius had apparently kept to his word of taking his time with the doxy. She hoped he was attempting to wash away some of the firewhiskey smell before the meeting.

Snape accepted his cup with a polite nod and proceeded to add so much sugar that she thought he might be able to chew the tea when he was finished. It took some effort to keep from staring. Instead, she busied herself with adding her own small spoonful of sugar and dollop of milk to her tea. Not wanting to remain in complete silence -- and now armed with the knowledge that he had a considerable sweet tooth -- she kept her eyes on her stirring spoon as she asked, “Do you have any preference for dessert? I hadn’t decided yet between treacle tart or custard.”

The silence stretched on long enough that she wasn’t sure he would answer, until finally, “Either is fine, but the custard would be faster for you.”

“That’s what I was thinking, too,” she agreed. “Thank you for helping me make up my mind. I’ll get back to it. Help yourself to as much tea as you’d like.” With that, she set down her stirring spoon and headed back into the kitchen, giving him a quick smile before she left. The hostess in her was satisfied that she had fulfilled her social duties and made her guest comfortable. _Don’t be ridiculous, Molly, this isn’t your bloody house. You don’t have to play hostess to anyone,_ she admonished herself as she checked the bread again before getting started with the custard. Some habits were simply difficult to break.

She was well into preparations when a shadow blocked the doorway. Wand still raised as she prepared to set the ingredients to stirring themselves, she glanced back over her shoulder to see Snape standing there with the full tea set in his hands. “I thought I would make more tea, if I’m not in your way.”

_Sweet Merlin, he’ll be diabetic before the year is out._ “Of course, there’s plenty of room.” In the silence that followed, she heard the kettle start to boil as her custard largely put itself together under her supervision. Like an orchestral conductor, she waved her wand about, directing ingredients into separate bowls to be stirred, whisked, beaten, and whatever else they required. 

“Is this how you normally cook?” Snape appeared at her shoulder, watching the proceedings with interest.

How else was she supposed to do it? “This is how my mother taught me,” she replied, a little at a loss for what she could say that wouldn’t sound belittling. He was a grown man; surely he knew how to cook.

“I suppose my mother did it the Muggle way,” he commented, seemingly more to himself than to her. As if remembering that he wasn’t alone, he shook his head a little and gestured to the bowl nearest him, which was busily whisking egg yolks, sugar, and cornflour. “She would do this by hand.”

“Oh.” Was his mother a Muggle? It seemed rude to ask. “I’m sure that works just as well. This is just how I’ve always done it.” A saucepan flew over from the stove to add hot milk and cream to the bowl while the whisk continued its work. Snape dodged the hovering kitchen implements to set the tea to steeping, stepping out of the way again as the pan returned to the stove with the bowl in tow.

“I do something similar when I’m brewing potions. It makes sense to do it for cooking.” 

“I would have guessed you’d be an excellent cook, honestly.” From the way he stiffened, she realized he thought she was mocking him. She smiled and quickly followed up with, “The skillset is similar. Potions was one of my best classes at Hogwarts.”

His shoulders relaxed a little. “I don’t get much practice. Most of the time I just eat what the Hogwarts house elves make.”

From his slight build, she guessed he didn’t eat much to begin with. “You should try it sometime. I find it’s very relaxing, and when I’m done, I get to eat it. And with dessert in particular, even if it doesn’t come out looking just right, it will taste good. Sugar is sugar, whether it’s pretty or not.”

As if to prove her point, he again scooped a terrifying amount of sugar into his freshly poured tea. This time he caught her watching with a mildly horrified expression and, perhaps just to add to her horror, deliberately added one more spoonful. He refilled her cup as well and added almost the exact same amount of milk and sugar as she had earlier. _Bloody observant, this one._ He set her cup back on the counter, as her hands were still busy directing kitchen traffic.

Feeling a little braver, she raised an eyebrow at him. “So why _did_ you come early, anyway?”

He caught her eye, paused as he thought it over, then finally gave a little shrug. “To gloat.”

Molly laughed. So Sirius wasn’t paranoid after all. “Show up late next time. He’ll be in knots.” Walburga Black chose that instant to start shrieking again as someone else came through the front door, but she thought that for a moment, Snape had uttered a sharp bark of a laugh too.

The meeting proceeded with minimal fanfare -- although everyone seemed pleased to have a good meal to go with it -- with the minor exception of Mundungus arriving late, drunk, and in no condition to convene with other humans. Sirius escorted him out while Tonks and Kingsley discussed monitoring the activities of two separate Aurors they suspected of being Imperiused. It was a relief to Molly to discuss everything without fear of her younger children attempting to listen in. She already didn’t like Bill and Charlie’s continued involvement, despite knowing that they were extremely capable wizards, but at least they were adults with some experience behind them. All of her children had a proclivity for self-endangerment -- with the exception of Percy -- but her eldest children had enough life experience that she was reasonably confident in their ability to survive their own decisions. All of her younger children -- which included Harry, as far as she was concerned -- didn’t appear to have that self-awareness at this point in their lives.

As the meeting came to a close and everyone served themselves some custard for dessert, Molly was still lost in thought about her children, answering Lupin’s polite questions with only half of her attention. It took her some time to realize that Sirius had also said something to her. “Hm?” she asked, bringing herself mentally back to join present company.

“I was just saying that this is delicious. Thank you for coming by early to make everything.” As always when he was attempting to be conciliatory with her, his posture was stiff and anxious, but his smile was genuine enough. 

She returned the smile. “Of course, it was my pleasure.” With a quick sideways glance, she noted that Snape had eaten his helping with a speed she would normally associate with Ron. He was the first to rise, only offering a nod of goodbye to Dumbledore and ignoring everyone else at the table as he set off for the door. The rest of the meeting dispersed shortly after. Sirius took over most of the cleaning, refusing to let her touch anything and citing again how grateful he was for the meal, although he allowed Arthur and Lupin to assist.

Sitting alone at the dining room table as the others worked in the kitchen, Molly made up her mind. She summoned some parchment and a quill and proceeded to write down the full recipe for her custard. She knew it by heart; it was her grandmother’s recipe, and a family favorite. At the bottom, she added a single note: _I hope you enjoyed dessert. I thought you might like to have this._ When she and Arthur returned home, she immediately sent Errol off with the recipe folded neatly in an envelope, addressed to Severus Snape.

The next evening, as she sat down near the fireplace to continue working on Fred’s Christmas sweater, Errol flew into the room to land in a pile of exhausted feathers at her feet. Lifting the owl gently into her lap and letting him have some of her juice, she opened the tiny scroll he’d been carrying to read two, simple words:

_Thank you._


End file.
